He gives you a 'special' beer.

‘It’s working!’ you realize excitedly as the man growls in frustration but steps away from between your legs. You clamp them together quickly, eager to have your womanhood away from his leering gaze. You may not be able to undo what you’ve already done with this man, but you can sure try to keep it from getting worse.

He steps into the middle of the room and does two quick turns as he scans the room for a source of beer. When nothing presents itself he turns back to you with that same unsettling grin. His grin drops immediately as he sees you trying to cover yourself. “What are you doing?” he asks. His tone is light but there’s something so frightening about it.

“I’m… I’m just waiting for… my beer,” you stutter out. Did your opening already pass? Had all your begging really only bought you a few pathetic seconds?!

“Uh huh,” he says, clearly unconvinced. “Waiting for your beer, huh?” His face starts to redden and you can’t stop yourself from whimpering in panic, but a moment later it passes as he shrugs. “Sure thing my little slut,” he continues as you cringe at the word, “I forgot. I’ve got one in my car.” He turns quickly to the door. “And don’t. You. Move,” he says just before he steps outside. And then he’s gone and the door hangs open.

This is it, Emily! You can make your escape! But you don’t move. Every fiber of your being screams at you to get to your feet and run for your life. That if you’re still here when he gets back you may never leave! But you don’t move. A single sob escapes your lips as you realize that you’re too damned scared of getting caught and making this man angry.

An instant later he’s back, closing the door behind him and locking it with a casual flick of his wrist. You’ve blown your chance. A warm, open beer is quickly thrust into your hands.

“Drink it,” he murmurs as he watching you expectantly.

Nodding meekly you raise the bottle to your lips; only noticing at the last minute that you can hear fizzing coming from the bottle as if it were soda-pop. You lift the bottle a little higher to gaze into his murky liquid. For just an instant you could swear that you see a tablet resting on the bottom but when you turn the bottle it seems to disintegrate completely.

“Drink it,” he says again, more sternly this time. It’s clearly not a request.

Your shaking hand slowly raises the bottle to your lips. What are you going to do? You’re terrified of drinking the tainted beer but just as terrified about angering him. You’re trapped. Soon you’ll be even more trapped! And you’ll never care again that you are. As you hesitantly start to take a sip an idea suddenly hits you. It’s risky, but you aren’t exactly full of options at the moment.

You throw your head back, letting the beer pour into your mouth. More and more you pour, letting your mouth hold as much of it as you can. You are extremely careful not to swallow and still, you can feel a slight tingling in your mouth from whatever he put in the beer. Once your mouth is full you carefully set the bottle down as you take his hand, pulling him down onto the bed beside you.

“Hmm… I guess you really did just need some booze,” he chuckles darkly as he pulls you into his lap. You feel your pussy press against his stomach with his cock nestled against your ass crack. You hesitate just a moment longer and then you grab the sides of his head and pull him into a kiss. He chuckles against your mouth; clearly pleased with your change of heart. As soon as you manage to work his lips open you open your mouth and let the beer drain out over his.

You can feel it pour down his front and splash against your own body but you do manage to get some into his own mouth because he swallows a second later. He smiles up at you for a moment before he seems to realize what he’s done. Almost immediately you can see his eyelids start to lower. Whatever it was, seems to work fast.

He’s about to fall backward onto the mattress when he suddenly grabs your hair causing you to cry out in pain. In that instant, his other hand shoves the bottle between your lips. You gag and try to struggle but even in his **** state, he’s far stronger than you. He shoves the bottle so deep that you can feel it push into your throat. In a panic, you feel as the **** beer pours down your throat.

“Bitch,” he murmurs in a very slurred fashion before he finally collapses backward.

Relieved you yank the beer bottle back out of your mouth and spend a moment coughing. It wasn’t pretty. But you won, Emily. You’ve beaten the man that **** your poor mouth and forever tainted your reputation. And now you’ll get away and never look back.

Almost as you think this the world seems to slow around you. You try to climb to your feet but the world tilts unsteadily beneath you. This is not good. He’s had less than you and he'll probably recover faster. If you’re still here when he wakes up you’re as good as his ****. You’ve got to get away. You’ve got… to… get.. … …